The Snake and a holy man

 

There was a certain village, where one snake used to live. Now this snake used to keep biting people and all the people in the village were very scared of him. So the people of the village never used to venture out of the house much because of the snake, even children did not used to play outside their houses.

 

One day one holy man was passing through the village and he was surprised to see the village so quiet, and on enquiring he got to know about the snake. So this holy man went to talk to the snake, in general you cannot talk to snakes, but holy men have special powers and they can talk to them.

 

Holy man gave all the gyan to snake, and explained him that it was not a good idea to be biting people around and harassing other living beings. It was against the scriptures and he might suffer in his next birth. The snake was very impressed with the holy man and he promised that he is going to change himself and become a really good good snake.

 

Now fast forward, one year ahead.

 

The holy man is again passing through the same village, and he sees the village full of activity. He feels very proud of himself. As he goes forward he sees a group of children crowded around something, jumping and playing. When he went near he saw that these children had surrounded the same snake, and they were hitting him with stones and catching its tail and the snake looked completely tortured. Snake was looking very sorry looking and meek.

 

The holy man drives all the kids away, and feels very sorry for the snake. He asks the snake, what happened. Snake says that as people started realizing that snake had stopped biting, they started making fun of him, and harassing him.

 

Then the holy man tells the snake, “I had only asked you to stop biting, but not to stop hissing, you have to be nice but still stand up your ground.”

 

“Be nice to people, but don’t get walked over”, I guess this is the moral of the story.

 

Guess this is little stupid story, but I really found it very relevant and really liked it.

 

 You may also like to read the following:

How umbrella and slippers came in to existence

A small story

A small story...

He was half-awake, still on the bed, when Mr. Reddy called. "Please can you be at Indian coffee house at 8:30 morning", he could hear Reddy say. "Ok," he said and cut the phone. But he was in no mood to get up, he generally liked to lie in bed early in the morning, listening to the birds and thinking about his girl friends, atleast those who he thought of as girlfriends. He didn't want to spoil his sleep for some Reddy, and he got some satisfaction in making Reddy wait for spoiling his dreams.

He was wondering how people could be so selfish, seven in morning was not the time to bug people, especially when you did not know them and further still when you had to get some work out of them. But he did not say anything on phone, because Mr. Reddy was after all niranjan's father. He had worked with Niranjan on one project during college time and they had had a good time.

He delayed as much as he could getting up from bed, but then finally woke up and got ready to meet Reddy. Early morning MG road is deserted, and he quite liked to drive on empty roads, even parking is so easily available, and standing outside the coffee house was this middle age man, a typical shop-keeper-uncle type, with a big tummy, and sure enough he was Mr. Reddy.

"Mahesh"
he nodded,
"I waiting, 7:30 AM"? Mr. Reddy added,

"But I said 8:30 uncle", he blurted in a louder voice, He was in no mood to be guilt-tripped by some Reddy who was standing for one hour on a relatively cold Bangalore morning.

"Language problem, you fast English, less understand" he said

They went inside.

"15 minutes only, then you go office", Mr Reddy said

He was relieved, he had a important review meeting in office at 10 and he did not wanna get late for that. Not much that it mattered, but he still wanted to use this as an excuse to escape from him, and return to comfortable work desk with google talk and orkut.

"Lawyer from Guntur, you witness, give same, what you give in court, copy is there" Mr. Reddy said and handed him the copy.

He looked at the copy, and memories flooded of that afternoon in court, all those cross examination questions, "Did you see the truck coming", "Was it a cold night", "Was it a foggy night", all those things which he hardly remembered. He was actually sleeping when it happened, and he did not even realize it until much later, when he had woken up to lots of commotion, people shouting, in languages he did not understand, and he was sandwiched between two seats. He did not remember exactly when the realization had hit him that it was an accident. He only remembered wriggling out through the window, someone helping him out, and for some strange reason he was the only one out there wearing shoes, every one else in their bus was barefoot. His next memory was taking one of his colleagues to the closest hospital, in a police jeep. He was in a kind of semi conscious state in disbelief, probably in shock, but somehow the hospital, and then police station and everywhere else, seemed to be a dream. Only when he was at police station someone said Niranjan had died on spot.

Niranjan was his classmate and after that they had landed up in a job in the same company. Niranjan had planned the whole trip. He did not even remember the last thing Niranjan had said or his last expression. probably at the tea shop on the highway, after which Niranjan had choose to sit on the first seat and he for some reason was sitting on the third.

He did not even see Niranjan's body, he did not have the courage to see it. Days later he was still looking at the empty cube and half expecting Niranjan to appear suddenly. They said he had died on impact.

Then he remembered the court case, he had already given witness once. That was for Shivkumar. Shivkumar was sitting next to Niranjan and had met the same fate. He had not given entirely correct witness then either, he had said that he was awake when it happened. He had said that it was not a foggy night, though he did not remember anything of that sort, he had also said that the other vehicle was speeding. In reality he had no idea how and what happened, he was sleeping blissfully. But he had done that because he felt sorry for Shivkumar's father. The insurance lawyers were very smart, and probably had he said the truth Shivkumar's father would probably not have got a single rupee, which did not seem right. Poor father, he was old, fighting a lone battle against those tricky viley lawyers. And he had not entirely distorted everything, had he been awake, probably he would have witnessed same thing. Surely Shivkumar's father could not be punished for his sleepiness. He had felt happy then that he could help the distressed father who had grown really old travelling in crowded BMTC buses for three months, trying to get some insurance claim.

But right now sitting in front of Mr. Reddy, he was wondering and questioning to himself if he had to repeat the same things again. Why did these fathers want so much money from insurance? And Mr. Reddy did not look that old - he could surely take care of himself. Why making him do the same things and repeat the same things. But he was afraid that if he altered the statement this time around, it would be difficult reconciling to the court what he had said earlier and what he would say now. He was getting himself in to trouble trying to help people and the questions inside him were becoming more probing.

He had decided within himself that he would try to get things done in the right way especially in government offices. He had done that for his driving license, he had got it without paying a single rupee as bribe because he was adamant that that has to be done this way. Then why not fight insurance lawyers in right way, but then how many things he could possibly take up inlife. And after all Niranjan was his good friend. Further still the the idea scared him that had it not been for two seats, probably his father would have been here with Niranjan. That was scary and disturbing thought.

So he slowly and carefully read his previous witness and kind of memorized it. And then off he went to court to give witness. And it did not take long, but it required patience, same old questions, same cross examinations, same senseless things, like "did you see the other vehicle coming", "how far was it when you spotted it", "what is your religion". He wondered why would religion matter, he had half the mind to say that he was an Indian and he did not believe in religion, but then he did not want to create a scene, and unnecessary complicate matters. It is not a great feeling to see things getting repeated all over again, and then it made me wonder, how difficult it might be for rape victims, every hearing to go over it again and again, and then all of sudden he was feeling happy that he was better off. Comparatively this was nothing.


All was done, and he was free again. Mr Reddy thanked him and said, "I get 80 Lakhs",

80 lakhs!!! his mouth dropped, all of sudden he felt that all his lying was only to satisfy Mr. Reddy's greediness. What was he going to do with so much money, especially after Niranjan was no more. It was little disgusting that all this fight and all this business was just for money. Everyone wanted money, insurance lawyers wanted to save money of insurance, probably because they get commision on what they save, this Mr. Reddy, wanted more money for this son. All of sudden he felt things very oppressive, as he was going down the lift of court building. He was wondering what was he doing here, probably and the realization that he also had the hand in all this shameful business. It was very bad feeling.

And amidst these thoughs when he was stopping an auto to run way from that shameful place, he heard some final good bye from Reddy, and he did not care to return the good bye. He was glad that he was out of all this shit.
But as auto started, he caught this words," Will call, when settlement done, Niranjan, said you work NGOs, with money, want start Niranjan trust which scholarships poor children for them studying "

Once upon a Time...

"
Once upon a time, there lived a great great sage, in the middle of the forest with all the lovely trees around him. He was a great archer. He had a beautiful wife. His wife was a great athlete... pre PT Usha types.

So as it used to happen this sage used to shoot an arrow, and then his wife used to run and get it back. That is why sage had only one arrow, because he did not need another one. He used to shoot and his wife used to run and get it back.

Now as it happened, one day his wife went after the arrow but did not come back for long. Sage was getting very worried and angry. His wife was very beautiful so he was getting suspicious. Finally very late in the evening she arrived. Sage asked her very angrily "Where have you been, it is almost night?", she said "Dont get angry at me, get angry at the sun, because it was so hot that my feet burnt, my face burnt and I got tired and fell down. Only after the sun went down I could do my work".

Not this sage got very angry. He knew that right in the middle of the day sun stopped for a second. And he said "I am going to teach a lesson to Sun, tomorrow at afternoon am going to shoot the sun down."

Having heard of this all the gods got very disturbed, because the sage was the greatest of archers and he was quite capable to shooting the sun down. So they began to worry. Next day sage took bath did his morning pooja and got ready to shoot the sun.

Gods came and requested him not to do this, because that would destroy the earth, but he was very angry "Sun has troubled my wife and am going to teach him a lesson"

That is when one of the Gods came and gave him an umbrella and a pair of slippers and he told the great sage "Instead of shooting down the sun, why dont you gift these to your wife"

That is how umbrella and slippers came in to existence.
"

I happened to attend one of the seminars of guy called Devdutt Pattaniak . This story was narrated then. Devdutt is a medical doctor by education, marketing manager by presentation and a mythologist by passion (that is what his website says). What I know about this guy is that he is a fantastic story teller. He made a two hour presentation, explaning the relevance of Mythology in todays corporate scenario. I liked the way he put the analogy, it was very new and innovative some of the things were far fetched, but it was full of all this kinds of story, that made it very pleasurable to sit up and listen to him, that too right after heavy lunch.

For example the above story says, "Instead of changing the world change yourself, or rather Adapt to changing world"

Anyways, his website has some nice interesting stories, take a peek. And keep his name in mind, next time he has a presentation somewhere please attend it.

First day at school

Sunshine wrote a post on gutter baby, recalling how she had once fallen in gutter when she was three, and I have a similar story to share..

It was way back in 1983

As it so happened, we have recently moved in to the new house, my paernts had bought a house (just 85k !!!). We were among the first to occupy a house in that colony. And all around our house lot of construction was going on. Among the other things getting constructed there was this one rectangular gutter. For some vague reason on that day, they had kept it open. Me and my elder sister were jumping across it (along the shorter side). Each trying to tell the other , "If you can I can too". And then my sister just to show how big and how capable she is, as compared to me jumped along the longer side as well. How could I stay behind. I wanted to do the same, and bang I went inside, with my head hiting the edge of it as told later to me, with blood dripping nonstop from my head.

I dont remember anything after that, neither does my sister remember anything. I guess she would have just gone inside shouting and calling for mom. My mom says that they took me to the doctor, (our next door was a doctor). And saved me.

But as a momento of that incident, I still carry this deep cut on my forehead, whose reference I have given in infinite forms that I have filled. While people may search for their unique identification marks, in split second I say "deep cut on my forehead).

I have only two photos of myself, which dont have that cut... :D

Now that I am at it, there is one other incident that I vividly remember, that is my first day at school.

I was all in tears, I never wanted to go to school, but my papa would not take anything. I got ready to go to school but with the condition that papa was also going to stay there with me all the while, but somehow smart as my papa is, he managed to dodge me and disappear and I was in this room with all the kids and monstrous looking spectacled teacher. I did not talk with anyone, and finally this teacher cames and asks me my name and I say "Rajesh", (Yups Rajesh is my real name), and next she askd me was my surname. I had no idea what was that supposed to be. At home they had made me momorize my name, fathers name, mothers name, all about pencils, slates, bicuits, but never this surname.
I still remember that scene so well, teacher bending over me trying to catch it at all I muttered soemthing, wondering if I was shy, afraid, with green and white oil painted school wall in backgroud, with other kids staring at me, some even laughing and giggling at me, I was terrified as hell, wondering what was gonna happen to me, papa was nowhere to be seen.

For that one moment, I hated my papa with all my might, why did he not tell me. Where had he dissappeared. He had broken his promise and he was not there, I was never ever going to listen to him again. Probably I would never even talk to him again, but for one moment I wanted him there, to come and open those iron gate and take me outside, I wanted to be home and play.

I dont remember anything after that, just that one teacher took me somewhere and I was again made to sit. And I guess I sat there, crying all the time, looking at the door, just waiting to see some familiar figure there. Forming all those schemes to take revenge from Papa. And go and tell mom, about all the things that had happened, I was sure she was never even going to send me here again.

The confusion, which I learnt much later from my papa, apparently was because they were planning to divide the batch in to two classes and as is the case always there were more than one Rajesh, they wanted to know my second name, so that they could put me in right class.

But as it turned out later, I hardly went to the school for more than a week. I was always full of tears and would break into crying everynow and then again. Teachers also got sick me. My parents got me out of school. And I spent one more year at home, playing, and blissfully Njoying. Next year they got me admitted directly to U-KG.

Even now, when I go back to my hometown, and I meet some of our old family freinds, they keep telling me about those days, and wondering how I ever managed to study to be an engineer.

My First Job...

"
The sanskrit exam had just ended, and it was the last exam of 10th class and I was feeling very happy. Finally had finished school, and probably would go in to college. From time I had started watching movies, and seeing all the heros having so much fun in college I always wanted tobe in college.

But at the same time somethings were troubling me. The community in which I grew up, there was a rule that everyone does business. Other career options were unheard of. All my friends were planning to go with their fathers/elder brothers to their own shop/business and learn to work. But sadly my father worked in the bank, and he did not have business. So I was kind of stranded. So I wanted to find out what I wanted to do in life. Vivek, one other friend of mine had same problem. So united in our problem with the anxiety of uncertain future, we thought that we should start finding a job for ourselves.

We looked up in papers and found this particular sales agency which wanted sales executives. Next day we ended up in this sales agency. I dont even remember the name of it right now, the only thing that I remember is that the owner of the sales agency (as was murmured to us by the other guys who had come there), was a young man of 25, and he had started it when he was our age, and he had reached a level where he was earning lakhs of rupess per month. WoW.

There was supposed to be interview as well, and first one for us in our lives. Both vivek and me were nervous, vivek had even tried reading up all the maths and all. But we just cleared the interview, he did not ask anything. He only explained that we were supposed to do door to door selling. He explained how we could sell more and more and keep multiplying our return. He was so casual and looked so cool. Instantly he became our hero, and we wanted to be like him. He was so smart and a great man. We were wondering why his name had never figured in papers. All of sudden felt that we had found our career option.

Next morning we were supposed to go there at 8 and start the work. We had decided that we were not going to tell our parents, because they may stop us from doing this. We would tell them later, we were sure that if we were able to earn enough money, then they would feel proud.

Morning, and we were handed 10 packets of dining table mats. Each packet was to be sold at 100 rupees, and 10 rupees was my earnings from the same. We were even made to wear the tie. And we were asked to memorize something to the effect.. "Maam, we are from DontRememberTheName company and we have this ....".

May, Gujju land and tie, but somehow these things did not seem to bother us, we were just thinking that this was the thing to get into. We were just looking at this as a great opportunity to become rich. We would sell lot of dining table mats, and make loads ofmoney. Even 10 sets sold would give us 100 rupess, which did seem lot of money. It just meant selling one set an hour, which did not look difficult. Further still everyday the item seemed to change, dining mats one day, dining set other day, books on third day and so on. It looked so exciting. We had even decided that after some days we would carry different items, so that we could sell one or the other.

So out we went, we figured out a locality that we had to go and we started. Went from house to house, we had a little tough time in figuring out most of the times weather the lady washing clothes outside was the kaamwali or the house owner. But we kept on. Sometimes lecturing only to realize that we were talking to kaamwali, but then we would start again.

I remember one particular house we went, were after the intial lecture of introduction, the lady asked us to wait. We were hoping that she had gone to take money, but instead she got in her hand a similar packet of dining mats, and they looked spoiled and badly damaged, "I had bought it last week from similar guys like you and now in one wash it has got spoilt, please take this and give the money back". Ooops...not knowing what to do, both vivek and me broke off in a run, and ran away from her house as fast as we could. Did not stop until we reached the next street. I still dont know why we did that, but I guess we were afraid. Afraid that she would snatch a good packet from us. We did not want to get in to 100 rupees loss. 100 rupees was loads of money at that time. We stood at the corner of the road discussing about how we are going to deal with this situation. Wondering if we were cheating people. Wondering if the lady would have send her son to follow us.

We started again after sometime, but somehow the rosiness of the whole business had disappeared. We were begining to feel tired. And started wondering why could we not go back home and watch DDLJ.

At the end of day we had sold three packets, made thirty rupees. The owner of that company, our Hero of the morning, (I say hero of the morning, because somehow in the evening things did not look same, we started doubting him, his success) told us that we had done great, and tomorrow we should sell more.

From next day onwards we never went there. I guess that I decided salesmanship was not the right career for me. I dont even remember what I did for rest of the vacation. I guess spend it with TV, cycling here and there, and so on. Wonder what I did with those fifteen rupees (that was my share).

But I still think about that day. That image of me and vivek with mats in hands and the face of that lady are still fresh. I guess I learnt the importance of money that day, learned to respect my parets for taking care of all my needs and pocket money.
"

Crazy and Embarassing

"
That was the time when I was new to Bangalore. Just one year in to the IT job, and my life was mostly like everyone else, Brigade road roaming, KFC eating and Rex movie watching. But at the time of the story I had acquired something new, a girl friend. For the first time in life I was bitten by the love bug, you may say it is a little late, but I was a goody-goody boy in college, parachute oil in hair putting type, and the only pleasure known to me at that time were playing cricket and solving cryptography puzzles from "The code Book" (Simon Singh) and as such our college was never known for any fairer sex. So here I was in a totally different world. I found myself moving away from the late night discussions about "Brief History of time", and found myself sending lot of smses, and engaging myslef in late night calls which lasted for hours. I did not have a bike then, and further still I did not know how to drive one. But sensing the necessity of such a skill I borrowed a bike from one of my friends, not a Pulsar not even a splendour, but it was boxer, Bajaj Boxer. But I guess it did not matter at that time. I spend couple of days learning it.


On the day in question, I found myslef, on boxer with this newly acquired friend of mine. She did not know that I was a novice at biking, and I guess I drove brilliantly for a "two day experienced biker", and she could not guess it, until it was the time to drop her back after full day of doing somethings none of which I remember right now. But I do remember clearly as I was dropping her, around about 8 in the evening, it was already dark. She was off my bike, and after bye, and holding hands, and discussing when to meet next, to another bye and another shake hands, I was ready to go. There was this feeling of having accomplished something. But Ooops krrrr, krrrr, krrrr, krrrr,.....five kicks and the bike would not start. Some more kicks but the engine refused to start. I was getting little tensed. Such a situations had never been presented to me before. With racing mind I thought I would put the bike on stand, and try, but no... i had a better idea, (atleast at that time I though it was brilliant) I reasoned that the bike would have got cold and now given that it had already taken my 20 kicks it should start soon. So to save my man-li-ness pride, I just turned the petrol key, to off and on again. I did this because I wanted my friend to believe that petrol was off, am sure she would not paid much attentions to what I did with the key. So with renewed confidence and smile on my face, murmuring "Arey petrol was not on", I started, one... two...three... ten. It would simply not start. Now I was in soup.


I was feeling very embarassed and irritated. All the while this girl was standing there, looking little amused. I had never used bike for long, neither had I any knowledge about the failure points in a bike, not did I have any idea where to check the oil and all such things. Minutes later I found myslef walking with girl, dragging the bike, searching for some mechanic. Shops were already closing, and my house was not very near, I could not stay at this girls place also, because her aunty would have killed me, with all the thoughs racing we were walking down. I did not want to talk, I wished that the girl had left me alone, but according to her she was being a good friend, trying to sort out my problem, and I was getting irritated and wondering what kind of impression this girl would have formed of me, fear was lurking inside me that this might be the last time that girl would go with me.


But, then came the God send rescuer, a man who was walking away briskly, saw us two kiddos dragging the and came to our help. I handed him the bike feeling pretty sure that he would not be able to start it. But bang, first kick and the bike started. I was like you can understand very embarassed and very red. Then he pointed his hand to a small switch near the right handle of the bike, which was supposed to be the on-off button. The button was in off position and he simply put it on. You may ask how come it went in to off position, even I asked the same question to myself then, and I still dont know how that happened.


By the time the girl was laughing like mad, I was wondering what that man might be thinking about me, I wished that he was not from the same colony, I did not want to see him again. I wished he had never come and that I would have passed on the problem to some thing going bad in bike. But anyways, I took the bike and dropped my friend (girl) home, I did not switch off the bike, because I did not want to take any risk, and this time did not even go through the cylcle of bye...talking...... bye, just one small bye and I was off.


Today whenever I am with this friend of mine and we see a boxer, we both laugh like crazy, and remember that day, when the boxer would not start.

"
Excerpt from the dairy..

Now coming back to the present state, the most embarassing thing that I have done in recent past is to burn a white board marker with the soldering Iron. Being a very experienced hardware engineer, I guess that is something which I am not supposed to do. (I think it is ok to leak this information here, and that it would not affect my future career, since my resume does not mention Goli anywhere)

Another crazy thing that I did some days back was when I came to office very early and I did not have the keys. This happens quite often in our office, because we dont have a security guard. And no one was expected to come in another hour. Thankfully I had a my guitar, So I sat on my office steps facing the road and started playing, "knocking on heavens door", people came, saw and went. But I did not care. I wish I had a "katora" with me that day. I guess I would have made enough money for atleast a "set dosa" in the evening.

:D

To all the girls out there... A humble request

Excerpt from a Secret Dairy of a Secret Guy...

Discliamer: Any resembelence to any person living or dead is purely fictitious.
"
The one thing which I dread and am really afraid of is when a girl tells me that I am like a sweet brother to her.... God I hate it, fear it and have wild dreams about it... I wonder why girls are always interested in making brothers, even after they grow up, I wonder what faults that they see with their real brothers that makes them go out looking for more brothers, and even more brothers. I do hate more when most of my sisters' friends or friends' sisters start addressing me as "bhaiya", it becomes kind of default thing to use, and it irritates me. I wish they would ask me my name. And imagine if I turn back and start calling them bahenji, would they not take offence. Girls are funny and they are.

The other set of girls who are not going around forming brothers have one other deadly weapon "I cant look at you in that way", wonder what that is supposed to mean. And thats it, next day I keep looking at myself in mirror while shaving, and wondering if that has got to do with the way I look, the way I have my hair or it has got to do with her vision. And in general girls dont want to argue and discuss this subject, while it is so obvious to them, it seems latin-greek to me and leaves me totally perplexed. The only thing that I get out of them is that I dont appear to be that serious. But the problem is that if I start talking serious stuff then I dont even get this far, I mean then girls will never be interested in me. Because girls like fun-loving easy-going guys. So you see it is vicious circle. and I think the key is to identify the point of transition when I have to change myself from easy-going to hard-tuff, from talking about guitaing and the latest Johny Depp movie to talking about future career prospectus and the real estate pricing.

But the most funniest thing that I find is that the same girl (I mean the same girl who tells me that I am not serioius), when she goes out to meet the guy that parents have chosen for her, by default start seeing him as perspective husband, even though most of the times I find him as idiotic as myself.

I guess you girls have to understand that life is difficult for guys with the competition so high and you have to be little considerate. I guess on an average a girl might get proposed 5 times in her bachelorhood... (I have no data on how much on married girls), whereas a guy like me might die to get proposed even once. Now when I have got to think about it I dont think any of my boy-friends (somehow calling boy friends looks little shady, I mean my friends who are guys) have ever got proposed, atleast no one has ever told me about it. And trust me guys also have very little threshold of falling in love, and they pratically fall in love with any girl, I think if guy meets a girl for ten times he would surely fall in love. This is especially true if the guy comes from some testosterone intensive college like IIT.


So please all you girls dont take it very seriously if I ask you out for a cup of coffee, I am just looking for a harmless cup of coffee. Dont make any character based assumptions about me. And I have a very nice and cute sister and I love her. I dont think I can handle more than that. And please dont treat me as agony uncle and start talking about the antics of your new boyfriend, about how he does not pay any attention to you or whatsoever, because I hate your boyfriend, I genuinely hate him. I might listen with lot of enthusiasm but inside my heart breaks, and please dont do it especially when I cam sponsering you a cup of coffee. And if possible do let me know when is the transition point, rather when you would want to see me as hard and macho man.

Cheers.

Flying Kiss

Yesterday night I was waiting at the Hospet Bus Station to catch a bus back to Bangalore, it was quite late and there were hardly any people at bus-stand. I had brought a orange with me, because i like eating oranges when I travel. I was sitting all alone on the bench, when I saw this very old begger, walking towards me, looked very hungry, and was making the signs, you know the way beggers do when they are hungry. I felt sorry for him because he was quite old and really looked hungry and was walking with the stick. So I extended my hand and gave him half the orange. He took the orange in one hand and then with the other hand, he put two fingers on his lips and started moving them in front of his lips as if giving me a flying kiss. I got really alarmed, All of sudden I started feeling afraid, probably that person was a Gay, and there was hardly anyone at the busstand, probably there were some other people too, and I had lot of luggage and could not break for the run, I was also all alone on the bench, and I did not want him to come and sit next to me. Neither had my bus come yet, which meant I could not go anywhere else too, crazy thoughts started running. I was also getting embarrassed at myself being frightened by this very old man.

Not knowing what to do, I just looked away from him, started observing the flooring for the heck of it, hoping that he would disappear, and later when i looked up thankfully he had already past my bench, and felt glad. But when the trumoil in brain had subsided, a little thought with clear mind, I realized that he was probably asking me if I could lend him a smoke because it was also a very cold night. Anyways I dropped his thoughts, and started thinking of something cheerful.

But after couple of minutes or so I again spotted him, he was sitting somewhere in corner, eating a orange and with a "bidi" in one hand. Probably some smart enough fellow had understood his flying kiss...